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2014-08-19 - Opening Shots: A Guiding Light
Clack, clack, clack. Damian sits at the Batcomputer staring up at the screen displaying footage of the past battles of the Titans and encounters between Doctor Light and various heroes. Another part of the screen is running through financial transactions and working on the encryptions for the networks of a number of tech companies specializing in projection equipment and lasers. Damian, is in his Black Robin uniform, sans mask, a bottle of green health drink sits next to him along with an untouched meal under silver and some cold tea. The scene is not unfamiliar. "Arthur Light." The voice, gruff and low comes from behind Damian. It wasn't there a few moments ago. But now, the silhouette of Batman is there, the man in the cowl having returned from wherever it was he had been, to find his son at the Batcomputer. He remains still, not moving to approach Damian or interfere with the boy's research. "You won't find anything of his equipment on file," he says after a pregnant pause, giving weight to the mere annunciation of his presence. Damian is surprised but at least he manages not to jump. "Hello Father," he says, pausing his videos and turning the bat chair to face him. "Yes, Arthur Light, the Titans ran into them the other day. Why is his equipment not on file?" The man's eyes, still within the cowl, shrink and narrow in that calculating way that Batman has mastered. "You know the answer." No. He never made anything easy for Damian. But then, in the end, it would make his son as good at what he did as Batman was. "It's in front of you." Silence follows, as he waits, watching Damian's reaction as some unforgiving taskmaster in some school awaiting a proper answer and an array of punishments at his disposal should the wrong answer be given. If anything Damian livens in the face of the demanding response. This was familiar to him; this was the way his mother had taught him. "He makes his own," Damian answers. "And modifies it frequently." There is no hint of question in his voice, if Damian is to fail he'll do it spectacularly and without second thought. The lack of a correction is as best as Damian will get; at least, from his father in this visage. "He did." The few words, so gruffly spoken, give ample meaning to themselves and tell the entire story. Batman's head nods, but it's not in affirmation. It's to the video displaying. For Damian to see the clues, there. The clues that will, now that Batman is focusing his pupil's mind to them, will show that Light doesn't seem to be using the 'traditional' belt he used in earlier videos Damian watched. Nor any other signs of technology, in the most recent recording of Light's exploits. Damian watches and for the first few moments what his father is trying to show him flies past his head, but then it clicks and he makes a face. "Egh, it's in him isn't it? His technology? He's defiled himself to make himself some sort of cyborg." Forget that one of his team mates is equally defiled if not more so. At the question, Batman frowns in a way that is seldom seen. Still, Damian, who picks up on so many nuances, might catch it. It's a fact that Batman doesn't know. Or at least, know how it happen. "Somehow," is all he concedes. "Yes." Still, he doesn't take the cowl off. "He's dangerous." Considering whose mouth it's coming from, that's stating something. "Photokinesis. Hard Light manipulation. Light control. I heard about San Fransisco." He heard? The sting of failure burns deep. Damian lowers his head. "He won't escape again," he promises fiercely before he looks up and studies his father while he considers his next words. In the League they'd be seen as a sign of weakness and punished, but here, here was different. "I don't know how to fight him, Father," he says. "Do you have any suggestions?" The man eyes his son for a few moments, none of the internal emotions or doubts spanning his thoughts allowed to show on his features; this was something that the Batman had long-since mastered control of for most occasions. Finally, he reaches into the utility belt, smoothly and efficiently pulling out three items. A small pair of sealing ear-plugs, and a tiny emitter. These are tossed onto the metallic surface of the Batcomputer, in front of Damian. "A mind divided conquers itself. I created it to take down Langstrom." That should give a clue, if the ear pieces don't, as to just what the emitter does. Or can do. There's a pause, "There is always a way, Damian." Even if Damian had not read the files he'd be assigned he'd know who Langstrom was, his mother had a keen interest in his serum. The device and earplugs are picked up and studied for a moment. "Sonar?" he asks thinking it might detect the true Doctor Light. "No. Wrong. Duh. Langstrom's problem is he /has/ sonar, it's an ultrasonic pulse emitter, to break Light's concentration." "You'll need to adjust it to the human ear." Again, a lack of verbal or physical confirmation, but the sentence as much confirms Damian's conclusion. That same statement means Bruce won't be doing it -for- Damian. The kid has to learn to do these things the same way Bruce did. On his own. It's what made Bruce the man - the creature - he is, now. Batman doesn't say anything on how it might affect Damian's team mates, however. Damian nods "I can make those adjustments," he says confidently, encouraged by his right answer. He had no clue how he would do them, but he would find a way and be sure he could make them again if needed. He looks up at his Father "I'll start immediately," he says as he turns the chair back towards the computer and flicks off his programs before vacating the chair for his Father's use, he likely had work to do. "Anything else before I do?" he asks him. Batman considers that, only stating, "Don't keep Alfred up." It's as close as he might ever suggest that Damian get to bed at a decent hour. "Talk to Nightwing. He's encountered Light before." He takes a few steps towards where he'll change out of the costume, and head to bed himself after a full night of activity. "Don't let Rayner near Light." And then, he's gone, slipped into the changing room that will merge into Wayne Manor after a short elevator ride. Damian blinks. Keep Alfred up? It was morning wasn't it? He checks the clock on the computer and makes a face. Well it had been when he started. He shrugs. "I take care of it," he calls after his Father before he re-takes the empty chair and begins looking up the emitter designs. Just one more hour he tells himself, then he'll get some rest...